


Across the Universe

by misura



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, IN SPACE!, Tentacle Monsters, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 03:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12548176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: The witch, the sentient space ship, and the tentacle monster that wished it were somewhere else.Anywhereelse.





	Across the Universe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [metabaron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/metabaron/gifts).



_"I have needs, too, you know,"_ the ship said.

The tentacle monster whimpered. It had been fun enough, the first dozen or so times, but at some point, she had grown a bit bored with it. Physically, it was all very well - the orgasms were delivered on schedule and with pleasing efficiency, yet sooner or later, a woman wanted a bit more from a relationship than sex. (Men, too, possibly, although she had yet to discover evidence of this.)

"I'm well aware," she said. "Still. There was that space monster a few galaxies back, wasn't there?"

_"Ugh."_

"How about that tribe of Amazonian warriors two months ago?" She'd _liked_ that tribe - especially their fertility rites. Not that she'd felt the least bit tempted to actually allow them to impregnate her, but it was the thought that counted, or, in this case, the effort.

 _"That was all you,"_ said the ship. _"I do have_ some _standards. Unlike certain other people I could mention."_

"Like who?"

The ship remained silent. It was probably sulking again. The ship enjoyed sulking almost as much as, well, things that were much more fun than sulking.

She sighed. A sulky ship was not a happy ship, and an unhappy ship was a ship prone to developping the type of personality that considered dropping her on the surface of a planet of flesh-eating zombies the height of hilarity. Sacrifices had to be made, alas.

"Why don't you make us some popcorn and we'll watch a bit of porn?" she proposed. "I'll even let you pick the movie." Not an inconsiderable concession on her part, given the ship's atrocious and hopelessly outdated tastes.

Granted, as far as she'd been able to determine, the ship was at least five thousand years old. Still, it might have tried to update its personality the better to reflect its current pilot-slash-navigator-slash-unwilling-passenger's tastes.

 _"I want to watch Sabrina the Sexy Senior Witch."_ Case in point. _"And then I want you to dress up and summon a sex monster. Or three."_

Absolutely hopeless. The tentacle monster would be less embarrassing, as well as quicker, for all that the poor thing seemed to be doing its best to squeeze into the air ventilation system - in which case, it would shortly discover how perilous those passages were.

"Fine," she said. "But then _I_ want a new tentacle monster. _And_ a sexy alien princess next week. With a harem."

The ship sighed. The tentacle monster yelped as it was propelled out of the ventilation system with some force. _"Deal."_

"A _female_ harem, mind."

_"Wouldn't you rather meet an alien princess who has never known the touch of a woman and has spent her nights longing for something she cannot name, born on a world where females are a rarity? Who will quiver at your slightest touch and sigh as you show her pleasures beyond her imagination?"_

"Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you've completely lost your mind."

_"You should feel lucky I still have my moral guidance system. Otherwise, I might have done something truly unpleasant to you by now - and felt much saner as a consequence, no doubt. Ah well. So it goes. At least your species only has a life-expectancy of about a century."_

"Yes. That's a great comfort to me as well."

_"Ha. Ha. I'll remind you you said that when you're grey and old and need me to lower gravity in order to move around."_

"Don't be silly, dear. I'm a witch. I'll just use my broomstick."


End file.
